Chapter 4

Making their way out of the house, they headed down the dirt drive to the barn. That was when the thunder started to boom in the western sky.

"Some wicked shit is on the way here Dean, maybe we should wait for tomorrow."

"Sam, it's just rain. Stop being such a baby."

"You're the one that wants to take a nap, and you're calling me a baby!"

"Shut up, bitch."

"Jerk!"

"Get in the f'n barn, will ya, I don't wanna be here all day." Dean was waaaay past done for the day, he just wanted to sleep, he wanted to be prepared for tonight. He knew Sam was right, they should wait until tomorrow night since the storm was brewing, but something was nagging at his mind that he needed to come back tonight. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

Satisfied that the barn was as clean as the house, the brothers made their way back to the car. That was when the it started to pour. It was coming down so bad, they could barely see their hands in front of their faces. They both started running towards the car.

Sam reached the car first, longer legs giving him bigger strides. He was in the car before Dean even got close. When Dean finally reached the car, he hesitated, eyes drifting up to the attic window, like they were drawn there by some unseen force.

"Dean, Get In The Car!" Sam yelled at him, breaking Dean's thoughts. And with that, he got in the car.

"What the hell were you looking at?"

"Huh, wha, oh, nothing. Let's go. I need that nap now."

x

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The drive back to the motel seemed to take forever. Dean's head wasn't just splitting in half, it was splitting in quarters. He was having a hard time focusing and his stomach was in knots, somersaulting at every pothole he hit. He just wanted to get to the motel and sleep, forever.

The rain was coming down in sheets now, the howling winds blowing it sideways, making visibility near zero. The lightning lit up the dark skies like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

When the motel came into view, it was like a beacon of light to a lost sailor in the black seas to Dean. He parked the car and ran inside, not even waiting for Sam. Up the stairs, two at a time, he rushed to the door. He fumbled around in his pockets for what seemed like forever when it finally dawned on him. He never grabbed the room key.

"Looking for something?" Sam asked mockingly, jingling the keys just mere inches from Dean's irritated face, only to pull them away as Dean tried to grab them. "Ooh Dean, losing your cat-like reflexes there? Must be getting slow in your old age." Sam smirked at him.

"If you wanna see old age Sam, you're gonna open that door. I am NOT in the mood for this right now."

"Sure Dean. As soon as you admit to me that you are not ready for this today. Maybe we should hold off until tomorrow. I don't think it would hurt. Who the hell would be stupid enough to go out on a night like this anyway, besides us."

"OK Sam, you win. I feel like shit. I can barely stand up straight, my head is killing me, and the thought of food turns my stomach. It's probably the worst hangover I've ever had. But it's not some terminal disease that I'm gonna die from. We don't need to wait until tomorrow. What more perfect time to be out there than when nobody else will be out there to get in our way. Just let me sleep it off, then we'll eat, then we're gonna go hunt this bitch down. It's not like I haven't hunted with a hangover before."

"I know Dean, but you're not taking this hunt seriously by starting it on a bender. If you're not at the top of your game, your gonna get yourself or me hurt. We end hunts with hangovers, not start them."

"Please don't say 'benders' Sam. And I would never do anything to get you hurt. I said I'll be fine. Will you open the damn door now?"

"Fine. Go take your nap. I'm gonna see what else I can dug up." Sam unlocked the door, and Dean plowed past him, sprawling out on his bed. He didn't even bother to take his boots off.

"Wake me up in a few hours Sam. Should give us plenty of time before dark to eat and come up with a plan. I wanna finish this tonight."

"Whatever you say Dean. You need me to warm you up a baby bottle too, or are you content sucking your thumb?"

"Kiss my ass Sam. I wouldn't have gone out last night at all if you hadn't pissed me off anyway. Guess that makes this partially your fault." And that was the last thing Dean was saying on the subject. He just buried his head in his pillow. He was snoring in a matter of minutes.

"You just keep telling yourself that Dean. My fault my ass. Hope that nap improves your personality too, because you really are being a dick. And you're not at the top of your game, no matter what you say." He knew he was talking to himself, but he didn't care.

Sam flipped open the laptop. He figured he may as well see if he can dig up anymore information on their current prey. So far, there wasn't very much, only what they knew already. Seemed pretty straightforward though. It was still perplexing him that they came up empty at the house and in the barn. No evidence of anything sinister going on there at all. The house and barn had to be the key though. Both men died there, and the two missing men's cars were parked there. She had to be near that house somehow. There had to be a way to draw her out. He was having his doubts with this damn storm though. 'Nothing should be out in this storm. Please let it be over soon. I do not want to be out hunting in this tonight' he thought.

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Dean was woke after a much needed four hours of sleep by the sound of thunder. Window rattling thunder. It was only a little after five, but the skies were darker than evening on the dark side of the moon. The storm hadn't blown over like they hoped, but had intensified to dangerous proportions. And apparently, the power had gone out. There were no lights on, only the glow of Sam's laptop illuminating the room.

"Sam, are you here?"

"Yeah Dean, over here. You feel better?"

"Feel like a million bucks." And he meant it. He did feel a million times better. "When'd the power go out?" he asked as he dragged himself up into a sitting position.

"About three hours ago. Whole town is out."

"Well, that's just great. How the hell are we going to get anything to eat now if nobody has power? I'm starving, and I can't hunt on an empty stomach."

"Well, I found a bag of M&Ms in the car, and I've got a bottle of water. You could have that. Wouldn't be the first time that's been dinner for you anyway."

"Funny. All I've had all day was a lousy piece of toast."

"And whole fault is that?"

"Mr. Jack Daniels. I believe it was all his fault."

"Yeah, right. Well, you'll be happy to know that while you were napping, I. being the only person in his right mind, talked to the old guy downstairs and he told me that if we were planning to do anything, we'd better do it now. He said the power was gonna go out, it always does when it's like this. So, I headed down to that deli up the street and got us a couple sandwiches, just in case."

"Oh Sammy, you're my hero. I owe you big for this one. Hand it over before I eat this mattress."

"Dude, you don't know where that mattress has been. Just eat the sandwich, OK?" Grabbing the sandwich from the fridge, which was warmer than the room itself, Sam tossed it to his brother like a football. It was about the same size too.

"Roast beef and provolone, your favorite. And a bag of barbeque chips too."

"You really know how to pick 'em Sammy." Dean tore into the sandwich with a fury, biting off as much as he could possibly chew at one time. He looked like he hadn't eaten in years. H rolled his eyes back and moaned, "This is almost better than sex."

"Dude, TMI!" Sam just rolled his eyes. "So, I've been thinking."

"That's never a good thing."

"Would you shut up and listen. We know for sure that she only seems to take a victim when the guy is alone. The two that died got separated from their buddies, the other two that went missing were already alone. I think if we're together, she won't show herself. I think we need to split up."

"You know how I feel about hunting alone Sam. It's never a good idea. Usually ends up bad."

"I know Dean, but if we're together all night, we'll probably never see her and just be wasting our time. I think we're gonna have to split up. She has to be attached to that house or barn, there's nothing else out there."

"So, you think one of us takes the house, the other one the barn?"

"Exactly. We have to stake them both out. She could be using either one. We've got our cells in case we need 'em. I think it's the only way."

"I don't like it Sam, but I guess you're right. If it's the only, then it's the only way. I got dibs on the house, the barn's all yours, little bro. I want some kind of check-in, every twenty minutes or so, just in case. You behind me there?"

"Yep. Whenever you're ready then Sleeping Beauty, let's go find Princess Charming."

"Ready as I'll ever be," Dean answered, swallowing the last of his sandwich.

Something was bothering him, something at the back of his mind he couldn't quite pull out. He was almost looking forward to being alone in that house tonight, yet he wasn't sure why. He had a brief memory flash of dark eyes staring at him, but as soon as it came to his mind, it was gone. He did feel invigorated after the sleep he'd just had. It was only four hours, but it had been the most restful four hours he'd had in a long time.

"Let's get this party started then."

"Dude, is that the crap you listen to when I'm not paying attention? Oh Sammy, Pink is most definitely not your color." Dean chuckled as he grabbed his bag of the floor and headed for the door.

"Better than some of that mullet-headed garbage you listen to." His words fell on deaf ears though, Dean was already out the door. He smiled to himself though. He was thankful to be rid of Asshole Dean. It seemed like his tantrum had run it's course, and that was a good thing. Too many distractions can make for a long and dangerous night.

When Sam got to the lobby, he saw the look of concern on his brother's face. His game face. He came up behind him and mirrored the look as he peered out the window Dean was standing in front of.

The storm was unbelievingly gaining strength. The sky was now an unnatural shade of green. The clouds were hanging low in the sky and the humidity was stifling and oppressive.

"Dean, this is bad. This is tornado weather. I don't like it."

"Come on Sam, it'll be fine. Besides, that house has a basement. If things get hairy, we'll just head down there. How much safer are we here than there anyway? This old place probably doesn't have a basement. We'd be sitting ducks here."

"That's all easy for you to say Dean. The barn doesn't have a basement."

"Just keep your eyes peeled. If you see a funnel cloud headed our way, haul ass to the house. It's not that far with those gangly legs of yours anyway."

"Whatever. I still don't like it, if just feels wrong."

"When do hunts ever feel right Sam?"

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They arrived at the house a little after six. It may as well have been midnight, it was that dark. The threat of a tornado seemed to have passed, but the torrential rain, thunder, and lightning continued.

Dean got out of the car and hustled to the trunk. He stuffed two machetes, two shotguns, two lanterns, and two flashlights into his bag, then grabbed a box of Winchester style ammo. He slammed the trunk closed and hauled ass into the house, Sam right behind him. It was still unlocked, just the way they'd left it.

Entering the house, they brushed the rain from their hair and off their jackets. They were still soaked though. Dean dug into the bag, handing Sam his half of the weapons.

Dean spoke first. "Here's the plan. Every hour, we sweep the perimeter of each building, one at a time. I'll go first. I'll flash the light through the kitchen window twice when I go out, and twice when I'm back in. Then you do the same. Two flashes at the front when you go out, two when you're back. If anything's wrong, three flashes. Got it?"

"Two if by land, three if I'm in deep shit. I got it. Dean, be careful. I'm getting a bad feeling about this."

"Hey, it was your idea to come here, remember. Just keep your machete at the ready and your eyes open for the prize. Text me every twenty minutes too. Kind of a check-in."

"Got it, I'm off to see the Wizard." Sam ran out the kitchen door at the back of the house, hoofing it through the battering rain to the barn. Dean stood watching until his brother was safely inside, the shut the door.

He turned and make his way back into the living room, and set his watch for one hour. He then got out his lighter and lit his lantern so he could see his hands in front of his face. Shotgun and lantern in hand, he began to sweep the house. Nothing on this floor, he went to check out the basement. Down the stairs, he swept the room, it looked all clear also. Now for the upstairs.

As he began the trek up the stairs, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at full attention. When he reached the top and glanced into the master bedroom, he actually thought he felt those hairs salute. Stepping all the way in, he felt a chill run down his spine when he looked up to the attic. "Shit Sam, I thought you were the one with spider sense," he said out loud to himself in attempt to calm his nerves.

Grabbing the rope, he noticed his palms were sweating. "I feel like a friggin kid on a first date, what the hell is wrong with me?" Another comment spoken out loud, only to himself. He pulled down the stairs, and made his way up them. When he was well enough in, he put the lantern down and pulled his flashlight out of his pocket to scan the attic. The lantern just didn't offer him enough light. Clicking the flashlight on, he swept left, then right, then behind him. He felt satisfied that nothing was up there. He felt slightly disappointed.

He made his way back down the steps, closed up shop, and headed back downstairs. Another forty minutes to wait.

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Sam shook the rain out of his hair like a wet dog after a bath. He lit his lantern, and started to scan the interior of the barn. There wasn't much to it really. It was a relatively small space, everything openly visible. There was an upper loft that Sam had a full view of from right where he stood. There were two stalls for animals, both of which were empty. Sam didn't think there had ever been animals in those stalls. Sweep complete, Sam grabbed an old wooden chair and planted it at the front of the barn, and started watching the house from the window next to the door. He didn't know why, but he was sure that whatever was going to happen tonight was going down in that house. So he sat, and waited.

Two texts and forever later, he saw the flicker of Dean's flashlight. He also watched as the light came out the door, cross the length of the house, and disappear around the corner. After a few long minutes, the light came back into view around the other side, and back into the house. Two flashes of the light and Sam knew Dean's sweep was complete. Sam's turn now.

He was happy the rain had almost stopped. Guess things were looking up. Yeah, right. He flashed his light two times, and headed out, turning left and circling around the barn, sweeping the entire area as he went. Making it all the way back around, he ended up with a big, fat, zero. Back in the barn, he flashed the light twice to let Dean know he was back and all was well.

The next two perimeter checks yielded the same results, nothing. 'God, this is getting boring' Dean thought. It was time for another check, and the rain had started up again with a vengeance. The first three were pretty dry, save for the mud. This one would not be as pleasant.

Giving Sam the signal, he ventured out for the fourth time tonight. He was soo ready to go get Sam and just call it quits, but it was only ten. Just barely night, technically. That was when he caught the sight of something out of the corner of his eye, off to the side of the house.

He headed off in the direction he thought he'd seen the glimpse go. It moved in pace with him, always seeming to be just a few steps ahead of him and out of his field of vision. It would turn the corner of the house, then Dean would. Around the next corner, Dean right behind, not quite able to catch up. When Dean came around to where he'd started from, he saw something enter the house. As he followed it inside, he finally saw it.

She was petite, only about five feet tall. Long, flowing black hair, it covered most of her body, except for the slight glimpse of a firm breast peeking through. Her skin was flawless, dark, yet giving the appearance of being bronzed by the sun. Her eyes were dark and mysterious. He was almost lost in them. Then she spoke to him.

"You've come back. I knew that you would. Please, come to me. I just want to be near you."

The memory of those eyes flooded back immediately and Dean's stomach started to lurch with anticipation. "Of course I'm here. I couldn't stay away. That was you I saw earlier today, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was me. And your finding me only proves we were meant to be together, forever." She started up the stairs, Dean right behind her, like some lost little dog that had just been reunited with it's master. He couldn't resist her, she was calling to him. He was so entranced, he never noticed her feet, or the way she walked. He could only look into her eyes.

"We must hurry, we don't have much time. Come, quickly." She hurried up the stairs, Dean keeping pace with her. As they entered the top floor, she led Dean to the master bedroom. That was when his phone rang. He ignored it.

She turned to him, her lips brushing up against his. "Do you want me? Would you do anything for me, if only for one thing in return?"

"Yes, I'd do anything."

"Then prove it to me. Show me you trust me. Jump from that window and trust that I will catch you. Leap from that window, and I will be waiting at the bottom for you. Then we can go away and be together, forever.

"Anything." Dean dropped his flashlight and turned to the window, ready to jump.

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Sam sat, waiting as patiently as he could for the signal, which still hadn't come. The distress signal didn't either. Sam saw the light go inside, then disappear, only to be seen again from the master bedroom. No indication of trouble was given though. Sam pulled out his cell and hit the speed dial for Dean's phone. Four rings, and voice mail kicked in.

"Shit, something's wrong." Sam grabbed his machete, shotgun, and flashlight, and ran from the barn. He sprinted the distance between barn and house in no time flat, the fear for his brother's safety fueling his frenzy.

The door was still open, rain pooled all over the floor inside the kitchen, making it very slippery. There were two sets of wet footprints in the dust just beyond the kitchen. One set obviously had to be Dean's, the other set barefoot. The prints were toe to toe, as if they'd been in some sick dance together. Ignoring the footprints, Sam headed upstairs, knowing full well that Dean had gone that way too.

He heard voices when he reached the top. Two voices. One his brother, the other female. Entering the master bedroom, he saw her, in all her glory. Sam thought she was hideous. Her long, black hair hung down from her head like straw, her skin a sickly grayish brown, like the color of death. She had long, sharp fingernails, and dirty, backwards feet. Guess those guys that filmed "The Grudge" should have looked around a little more, This bitch wouldn't have needed any makeup. They were both standing in front of the window, Dean facing it, her right behind him, whispering in his ear.

"Dean, what are you doing? Kill her! She's right behind you!"

"Sam, I'm sorry. I have to do it. She wants me to." And without another work, Dean lunged through the window, shattering the glass as his body went through it and out into the pouring rain.